


The Best Birthday Ever

by Westgate (Harkpad)



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Birthday Parties, Clint Needs a Hug, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 15:37:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4065280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harkpad/pseuds/Westgate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cooper is turning ten and Clint and Laura are determined to throw him an amazing birthday party. Clint has water balloons and archery and an obstacle course, Laura has a How to Train Your Dragon cake and balloons filled with (leftover) helium. But hours before the party Clint's past decides to rear up and screw with him, and the timing just sucks. </p>
<p>Laura gives him a little perspective, because she's awesome like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Birthday Ever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shazrolane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shazrolane/gifts).



> Yes, let us read and write and fill the Clint/Laura and Barton Family tags with love and happiness! For my pal shaz, who has been all kinds of awesome support lately.

When Cooper turned ten, Clint and Laura planned a huge birthday party. Clint was so giddy about the whole thing that Laura accused him of acting like a ten year-old, too. She caught Clint and Cooper, the day before the party, using the helium to talk like Chipmunks instead of blowing up balloons, and that night she put Clint in charge of getting Cooper to bed because Clint kept scooping Cooper up to his shoulders and running around the yard whooping until bedtime.

They had a rule around the house that whoever wound the kids up before bedtime had to put them to bed.

Clint couldn't help it. He was excited about the party. Cooper played little league baseball and was inviting a few boys from his team, and he and Lila both took art classes at a local gallery, and he had a few boys and girls from there to invite. His two best friends from school rounded out the mix to bring their guest count up to ten. Ten little kids plus Lila, and Clint was in charge of games.

He had, of course, a mini-archery range set up, he had two whole trash cans filled with water balloons (he didn't tell Laura about those), he had burlap sacks for sack races, he went a little overboard and set up an obstacle course with some of his gym mats and the kids’ play set, and he'd set up a pretty good Capture the Flag grounds in the back field.

He was ready. He was giddy; and then, out of nowhere, he was sad, scared, and caught in a downward spiral of anxiety.

They had about three hours before the kids arrived, and they were pretty well set. Laura decorated Cooper’s “How to Train Your Dragon” birthday cake before breakfast, while Clint made Cooper and Lila crash on the couch and watch a movie before the other kids showed up. As he stood behind the couch and watched the opening credits, he felt a weight settle on his shoulders, a palpable, leaden weight, so he turned and climbed upstairs and went in and sat in his chair by the window of their bedroom.

He put his head in his hands as memories slammed into him like a tidal wave, heavy and fierce.

"Clint?” Laura asked as she came into their bedroom after him.

She walked over and put her hands on his shoulders and began to dig, hard, because his tension had turned them to corded wire under his worn, brown Credence t-shirt. “What’s wrong?” she said softly, leaning over to press her cheek to his cheek.

He leaned back into her and closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them and looked out the window. “He’s turning ten,” he replied. “I’ve been so busy thinking about him this week, thinking about his friends and about actually getting to throw my kid a huge party.”

“And then you had down time?” she said, coming around to kneel down next to him and put her hands on his thighs.

He nodded and looked her in the eye. "When I turned ten Barney stole a cupcake from the bakery cart at the circus and gave it to me behind the goat pen," he said, and suddenly he could smell the goats and feel the dusty air of the field they'd been in. He could see Barney, all arms and legs and grinning, his dark red hair going in all different directions because it was too long and there was a breeze. His green eyes were bright. “He laughed after he sang Happy Birthday, and said, 'Eat up, Clint. It's a cupcake of freedom. This is gonna be the best year of your sorry life.’

He meant well by it, too. We _needed_ a best year, both of us," he said, telling Laura the story. "We had just gotten to the circus after running from the Stanton house," he said, and paused.

In the dark of night after he'd realized he could tell Laura anything about his shitty life and she wouldn't run, he'd told her about old Mr. Stanton. She'd hugged him fiercely for a long time that night.

Now she ran her hands over his thighs and stood, pulling him up with her so they could move to the bed and sit shoulder to shoulder. He leaned into her, feeling her small shoulder, imagining it was a strong dam against the flood of his memories that were threatening to overtake him on a day that should soon be filled with laughter.

"When I turned ten," he said as he stared at his hands and swallowed against the lump rising in his throat, "It was the last time anyone sang to me until I met you. I look - " he stopped. He had to swallow again, and he ducked his head to his chest. Shame was rising in him like a pond in a thunderstorm. "I look at Cooper, and at the balloons and streamers and at that goddamned beautiful cake you made and - fuck," he whispered as the tears actually filled his eyes.

"It's okay," Laura said, reaching over to brush his cheek with her warm, calloused hand. "Whatever you're feeling, it's not wrong, Clint. It just is."

"I'm so _jealous_ sometimes," he whispered. "I mean, yeah. I'm proud on the good days, proud of what you and I have managed to give our kids, proud of the people they're gonna turn into, proud of myself for not turning into my bastard old man. On the good days," he said, and he looked over at her. She was pressing her lips together like she might cry, and that just made it worse.

"On the bad days?" she said softly.

"I'm...I'm jealous of them, Laura. I looked at them resting down there, the house all decorated and all those kids who like him coming to play today and - and I never had that. I wanted it - what little kid doesn't want it? I wanted a party and people to celebrate with me, and I got a cupcake behind a goat pen, and then nothing again for fifteen years." He paused to suck in a sharp breath. "It's sooo fucking stupid," he said, and collapsed back on the bed to stare at the ceiling.

Laura fell back next to him and rolled over onto her elbow. She brushed his hair out of his face and pierced him with her gorgeous green eyes. "It's not stupid," she said, her voice suddenly low and fierce.

He couldn't help but snap his eyes over to her.

"Would you keep the celebration away from Cooper?" she asked.

Clint felt like she'd slapped him. "What? Of course not."

She nodded, and said, "Of course not. You wouldn't deny your own kids their happiness just because you never got to have it. You're too good for that, too fucking smart and you know it."

"So?"

She sighed and leaned over to press a warm kiss to his lips. "So your feelings aren't stupid. Acting on them and screwing with your own kids because they get to have something you always wanted, that would be stupid, and you know there are asshole parents out there who do that. They deny their kids stuff out of pure resentment. You're not them. You're up here freaking out in your bedroom because you're afraid you're going to mess up your son's perfect day. There's nothing bad about that, nothing stupid." She paused and sat back up on her arm. "It just is. They're just feelings you need to feel for a while," she added with a shrug.

He stared at her and let her words swirl around in his chest for a minute, let himself think back to watching other kids at the circus get doted on by their parents, let himself think back to when he would take a pull from a pop can as he watched and would swear that he'd do that someday.

He looked up at Laura now, saw her dark hair and high cheekbones and the classy beauty he fell head-over-heels for, and he smiled.

"Now what?" she asked gently.

"I remember watching little kids with their parents at the circus, even on bad days when Trick was in a crappy mood and taking it out on me. I remember watching those parents and thinking, 'That's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna spoil the shit out of my kids if I ever get to have 'em.'"

She threw her head back and laughed. "Well, you've certainly followed through on that, Clint. You've got the 'spoiling the shit out of them' part covered."

He laughed too, and pulled her down for a long, slow kiss. Her soft lips on his and the smell of frosting and apple juice made his heart settle, made his body relax. He pulled back and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Did I tell you about the trashcans filled with water balloons?" he asked, and she got this awesome horrified look on her face and he cracked up as he rolled off the bed.

He ducked away and ran out of the bedroom to the sound of "Clint Barton if their parents never let them play with our son again after today, I'm making sure he knows it's all your fault!"

 ****

 

The parents weren't mad. Their kids were wiped out with exhaustion by the time they picked them up at six that night, and that made the parents very happy.

Clint sat with his arm around Cooper on their porch swing after all his friends left, and Cooper leaned into Clint's shoulder and sighed. "Dad?" he asked, and his voice was tinged with exhaustion and contentment.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Thanks," Cooper said. "That was the coolest birthday party ever."

Clint smiled, leaned down and pressed a kiss to Cooper's head. "Yeah," he said softly. "I think it was, too."

 


End file.
